


Interruptions

by Robin4



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Queens of Darkness, Rumbelle Secret Santa 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 00:12:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8918992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robin4/pseuds/Robin4
Summary: Rumplestiltskin keeps trying to propose to Belle, but someone interrupts every time he tries.  He wants to create the perfect romantic moment, but Storybrooke has other ideas.
AU where Pan and Henry never swapped bodies, no second curse.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Rumbelle Secret Santa 2016, prompts: petrichor, candles, leather, suspicion, twinkle.

They had been back from Neverland for six months when Regina had an attack of conscience and decided to resurrect Maleficent.  Rumplestiltskin hadn’t been entirely sure what to make of that, but he’d told her what to do.  Belle had even smiled and told him that he was doing the right thing, helping like that, although the Charmings’ responses had been a little more lukewarm.  Given that he knew what had happened with Maleficent’s daughter, Rumplestiltskin was not surprised by that development; instead, he simply planned to keep himself and Belle well clear of whatever disaster evolved from Maleficent’s resurrection.

For once in his life, the world actually seemed to cooperate with that idea, too.  Rumplestiltskin knew that the Charmings would insist on tagging along when Regina brought Maleficent back—they had grown ridiculously clingy towards their former worst enemy ever since Neverland—so he could count on them not interrupting, at least.  Baelfire was out with Henry, which kept his son and grandson out of the way, which only left Belle to convince.  She was a little more suspicious when he left the shop early that Wednesday, but in the end, he managed to convince her that he was closing the shop because he wanted to avoid Regina and the Charmings coming by for _just_ one more magical solution.  That had the benefit of even being mostly true.

“Rumple?  Are you home?” 

“In here, sweetheart.”  Rumplestiltskin had known she was coming—he’d set a magical tripwire up on the front walk to warn him—so he’d had time to sit down on the couch and look like he was reading a book casually instead of hiding a wild mess of butterflies inside.

Belle reached the doorway before she stopped cold.  “I thought you said it was your night to cook.”  She sniffed the air, but Rumplestiltskin had already known she’d detect nothing.  “Didn’t you say that was part of the reason you were closing up early?”

“That I did.”  Rumplestiltskin shrugged, trying for artless and ending up with something a lot more guilty looking.

Belle gave him _that_ glare in response, too.  “You’re up to something.  I can always tell when you’re up to something.”

“That’s because you know me better than anyone else.”  Smiling, Rumplestiltskin rose and stepped forward to take her hand.  “I promised dinner, and dinner I shall deliver.”

“As long as you’re not expecting _me_ to cook.  We both know how that turns out.”  But her dry words were softened by a twinkle in her eyes, and Rumplestiltskin snickered.

“That we do.”

Pulling her forward, Rumplestiltskin led Belle to the back door and out into the yard, where the grass was still wet from the earlier rain.  Storybrooke had experienced a strangely long dry summer after their return from the jungle island, but today the skies had finally let loose, leaving a wonderful smell in the air now that the rain had stopped.  But it wasn’t the petrichor that made Belle gasp.

“Rumple!”

Suddenly feeling shy, he turned to face her, his heart pounding wildly in his ears.  “Do you like it?”

“Of course I do, you silly man.”  Grabbing him by the lapels, Belle dragged him close, kissing him soundly enough to make Rumplestiltskin’s head spin.  “I love it.”

“I’m glad.”  He hadn’t felt so self-conscious in years, but then, Rumplestiltskin knew he wasn’t the best at romantic gestures.  He _tried_ , but most of his better gestures had revolved around spending money and giving Belle gifts.  He knew she appreciated them, but his love was the spontaneous sort.  Rumplestiltskin wasn’t; he liked life to be well-planned and firmly controlled, so doing things like this left him nervous and more than a little afraid.

Yet he _had_ done well, he decided, casting a critical eye over his handiwork.   Rumplestiltskin had built a small canopy—big enough for two—by the wall of climbing rose bushes, lining it with candles for lighting.  Beneath the canopy, he’d laid down a picnic blanket, anchored by a candelabra that bathed the place settings in warm light.  The picnic basket was still closed, but when Belle opened it, she would find hamburgers and fries.  He’d used magic to enchant the picnic basket to keep everything warm, of course, but Rumplestiltskin doubted she’d mind.

“Rumple, this is perfect!”  Belle practically dragged him over to the blanket, her eyes absolutely shining.  “But what’s the occasion?”

“Do I need a special occasion to do something nice for the woman I love?”

“There’s _always_ a catch with you.”  She laughed.  “But don’t worry, I love you for it.”

Rumplestiltskin felt like he could walk on air; the last six months had been the best of his life.  First, he’d managed to reunite with his son, finally reaching an understanding and slowly repairing the damage he had done centuries earlier by letting Bae go.  Second, there was _Belle._   She’d moved back into the pink Victorian with him about a week after his return from Neverland, and although they’d had a few spats—as they always would, he suspected—they’d been amazingly happy.  Every day felt like a blessing, and Rumplestiltskin had never been one to overlook his good chance.

He didn’t mention the ring burning a hole in his pocket.  Not yet.  Not until the perfect moment.

* * *

 

Regina led Snow and David deep into the tunnels underneath Storybrooke, using magic to find the place where Maleficent had turned to dust.  It was almost directly beneath the library, but Regina had the keys, and they’d used magic to operate the elevator so that no one had to stay behind.  When she’d first gotten this idea of righting her own past wrongs, she hadn’t quite understood why Snow and David had been so against the idea, but they’d argued with her for days.  But Regina was determined; she’d betrayed her friend, stolen the curse from her and used magic to trap Maleficent under Storybrooke.  Now she had the power to make that right, and she would do so.

Yet something didn’t fit.

“You know, when Gold told me how to resurrect Maleficent, I figured it would be easy.” Regina watched Snow and David carefully, and was surprised to see them both twitch in unison.  _Of course they twitch in unison.  They don’t do_ anything _not in unison._ “He said that the only ingredient is the blood of those who had wronged her most, and I figured that would be me.”

“Because you locked her under here as a dragon, you mean?”  Emma was behind her parents, but she seemed a lot more relaxed than they did.

“Among other things, yes.”  Regina stopped, looking down at the pile of ash that had once been her friend.  “But Rumple said it was _you_.”  She turned back to Snow and Charming.  “Both of you.”

Snow gulped; David froze.  Both were silent.

“Mom?  Dad?” Emma looked both shocked and confused, but neither answered beyond exchanging a nervous glance.

“What I don’t understand is _why_ ,” Regina said after a moment.  “It makes sense, of course; if you wronged her, you wouldn’t want her back in Storybrooke.  But the two of cringe killing flies.  And if you couldn’t execute _me,_ after everything I’d done to you, I have a hard time imagining you harming Maleficent more than I did.”

“We did.”  Snow seemed to force the words out.  “We…well, it doesn’t matter, now.  But we wronged her.  Terribly.”

“If she’s going to come back to life all furious and vengeful, Mom, it sure as hell matters!” Emma put her hands on her hips, glaring.  “What happened?”

“We—we didn’t ally with her, when she came to tell us about the curse Regina had stolen,” David said after a moment, and even Regina could tell it was half an answer.  “She asked us for help…and we stabbed her in the back.”

“By doing _what_?” Emma demanded, but Regina cut in.  _If I let Snow and David turn this into story time, we’ll be here all night.  And then they’ll decide bringing Mal back is a bad idea, but I_ owe _her.  And I’m not going to let their guilt stop us._

“That doesn’t matter right now.  You can explain it all to your offspring later; for now, I’m bringing Maleficent back.  So, put out your hands.”

“Regina, are you sure you want to do this?”  Snow gulped again.  “I know you feel guilty for trapping her down here, but Maleficent is dangerous.”

“Yeah, she is, but it’s nothing we can’t deal with.  Even if she somehow turned out to be too much for Emma and I to handle, we’ve got Rumplestiltskin in our back pocket.  He’s a tricky bastard, and even Mal won’t screw with him.  Much.”

Maleficent wasn’t stupid, anyway.  Whatever revenge she wanted, Regina knew they could deal with it.  Three against one weren’t odds likely to make Mal pick a fight, and Regina knew her old friend wasn’t irredeemable.  If _Regina_ had been able to be saved, Mal could be, too.

David and Snow exchanged another glance.  “If you’re sure.”

“I am.  Now give me your damned hands.”

The Charmings held their hands out, and Regina sliced each one quickly, allowing droplets of blood to fall directly into the ash that had been Maleficent.  Immediately, Snow and Charming stepped back, with Emma hovering protectively, but Regina held her ground.  Yet even she was surprised by how quickly the ash turned to a swirl of smoke, and seeing the sudden appearance of Mal’s dragon form left her trying very hard not to jump.  Moments later, Maleficent reverted to human form, staff in hand and eyes narrowed.

“ _Regina_.”  The word was a hiss, but it was nowhere near as fury-filled as the glare she turned on Snow and Charming.  “And _you_.”

“Forget them,” Regina snapped, drawing Maleficent’s gaze.  “You’re here because of me.  If you want to be angry at anyone, I deserve your hate.”

“Hate?”  Maleficent looked surprised.  “Why would I hate you?  All you did was trap me as a dragon.  That’s nothing worse than I’ve done to others in the past.”  She shrugged.  “If you play the game, you should expect to be burned from time to time.”

Regina blinked.  “You’re not angry with me?”

“Mildly.”  Another shrug, and then a small smile.  “I’m sure I’ll find an appropriate revenge along the way, but I suppose your resurrecting me goes a long way towards forgiveness.  It _is_ good to be back.”

“Whatever it is you think we did, you don't know the whole story,” Snow spoke up quickly.

Maleficent turned to glare.  “I know enough.”

“If you want to hurt them, you’re going to go through me, first.”  Emma stepped forward, fiercely meeting Mal’s glare.  “I killed you once.  I don’t want to do it again, but I won’t hesitate.”

“No.”  Snow shook her head firmly.  “You wanna hurt someone? Well, hurt me. Leave David and Emma alone.”

Maleficent’s laugh sent a chill down Regina’s spine.  Her words were a purr.  “Hurt you? No. That would be far too easy.”

“You're going to tell everyone what we did first.”  Snow had gone ashen white, and her numb words made even Emma turn to stare at her.

“Mom?”

“I don't care about your secret.”  Maleficent snorted.  “You can keep it as long as you like. I only care about one thing... your pain, and that it be as long and terrible and unyielding as my own.  The pain _you_ caused.”

“All right, that’s enough,” Regina cut in with as much force as she could muster.  “Mal, things aren’t the same here as they were back home.  _None_ of us are the same.  While I can understand the need for revenge—”

“You understand _nothing_ ,” Maleficent cut her off, her eyes burning with hatred.  “And neither do they.  This one”—she jabbed her staff at Snow, who flinched—“talks of hurting as if it will atone for the pain they caused me.  As if _my daughter_ did not matter!”

“Your—your _daughter_?”  Regina knew her mouth was hanging open, but she couldn’t stop herself.

“Ask _them_.”  After spitting those words, Maleficent teleported away in a cloud of black smoke, leaving Regina and Emma confused—and Snow and David doing the closest thing to cowering that Regina had ever seen.

Several long moments of silence passed before Emma turned to glare at her parents, arms crossed.

“Is one of you going to tell us what the hell is going on?”

* * *

 

They had just started on dessert when a sudden gust of wind— _Magic,_ Belle’s mind reported—destroyed the back gate.  Immediately, Rumplestiltskin scrambled to his feet, shoving Belle behind him, but she still had a perfectly good view of Maleficent striding into their backyard, her black dress billowing behind her like a possessed animal.

“I thought you said that she had no reason to be angry with you!” Belle hissed in an undertone.

Her love shrugged.  “None that I know of.”  Rumplestiltskin took a breath, and Belle could see the softness he always showed her being buried underneath the Dark One’s hard outer façade.  “Maleficent.  What brings you to my home, dear?”

“You are not surprised to see me.”  Maleficent stopped, her eyes narrowing.

“Of course not.  Who do you think gave Regina the knowledge required to resurrect you?”

That made her eyes narrow.  “You look different in this world, but your fingerprints were still all over that.”

Rumplestiltskin smiled.  “If you’re here to say thank you, dearie, I recommend you wait until a more civilized hour.”

“What, so you can romance your maid in peace?” Maleficent snorted, looking Belle up and down with eyes that made Belle feel ridiculously inferior.  “Please.  You’re pathetic.  Though I suppose this _is_ one up on you making doe eyes at her behind her back.”

“What do you want?” Belle couldn’t stay quiet any longer.  She hadn’t forgotten the way Maleficent and her friends had kidnapped her and threatened to kill her.  Things like that didn’t exactly fade from your memory, after all.

“She’s still as mouthy as ever, I see.  I’m surprised you put up with it.”

“Get to the point.”  Rumplestiltskin’s voice was low and dangerous, and sent an entirely inappropriate chill down Belle’s spine.

“I want to know where _my_ friends are.  Where my _daughter_ is.”  Maleficent drew herself up in what was clearly an effort to remain in control.  Belle could see the emotion shining from the blonde sorceress’ eyes, though, the desperate _need_ to know.  And then her last words sank in.

“Daughter?” Belle echoed, shock rolling through her system.  Immediately, she twisted to look at Rumplestiltskin, but her love did not seem surprised.  Just grimly resigned.

“Yes.”  Maleficent’s voice was tight, and then her eyes traveled to Rumplestiltskin, too.  “Surely you of all people understand my need to know what happened to her.”

“I do.”  Belle could feel him sigh, ever so slightly.  “I can tell you where Ursula and Cruella are, and what little I know of your daughter’s fate.  But it comes at a price.”

“Of course it does.”  Maleficent’s smile seemed more natural now that they were back in familiar territory.  “In exchange for the information I seek, I promise to leave you—and your little maid—out of any schemes of mine.  Will that do?”

“She’s not my maid.”  His voice turned into a protective growl that made Belle try—and fail—to bite back a smile.  “Not now.”

“Oh, she isn’t?  Good for you, then.”  Maleficent’s gaze turned appraising.  “It’s about time.  Now, do we have a deal?”

“We do, provided you include my son and grandson in your promises of safety.” 

“Of course.”  Maleficent inclined her head regally.

“Then the deal is struck.”  Rumplestiltskin glanced at Belle.  “This will only take a moment, sweetheart.  Unless you want to come?”

“I do.” 

“Then come inside.”  Rumplestiltskin gestured for Maleficent to follow them into the cellar as Belle’s mind raced.  She wasn’t entirely at ease with the idea of bringing Cruella and Ursula into Storybrooke.  Who knew what ‘schemes’ Maleficent might get up to?  Belle herself might be safe, but the rest of the town…

“Rumple, are you sure about this?  Letting those two into Storybrooke might break the peace we’ve had these past few months.”

Life had been blissfully _normal_ after everyone had returned to Neverland, and Belle was starting to think that they could all live good lives in Storybrooke.  Rumple and Regina were both working hard to be better, and no one else had showed up to turn their lives upside down. _Until Maleficent was brought back, anyway_.  Belle wasn’t particularly pleased with herself for that thought; Maleficent deserved a better life than that of a drifting shade.  Yet if all Maleficent wanted to do was bring other villains into Storybrooke, that would mean trouble for everyone.

“I’m sure they won’t be anything Emma and Regina can’t handle.”  He shrugged coolly, and Belle noted how Rumplestiltskin purposefully didn’t mention himself as someone who might defend Storybrooke.  But then again…she knew that look on his face.  Rumplestiltskin wasn’t refusing to help; he was playing his cards close and not letting _Maleficent_ know that he would help.

“Right.”  Belle forced herself to smile.  “Of course.”

Maleficent gave her a strange look, but it wasn’t like the ‘Mistress of All Evil’ knew Belle very well.  She didn’t know that Rumplestiltskin’s former maid was determined to help this town run well and safely; she probably just thought Belle was a pretty face who had somehow seduced the Dark One into caring about her.  Normally, Belle would be insulted by that assumption, but for now, she’d let it slide.  She trusted Rumplestiltskin to help when he was needed, so she said nothing while he handed over the current addresses that Cruella and Ursula both lived at, as well as all the information he had on a baby named Lilith.

* * *

 

Maleficent’s arrival had ruined more than just dessert, so Rumplestiltskin abandoned his idea of proposing that evening.  He’d wound up spending most of it explaining the unholy friendship between the so-called ‘Queens of Darkness’, as well as what he knew of what had happened to Maleficent’s daughter.  Belle had been horrified by that news, as apparently had been Emma.  According to Bae, Emma had refused to speak to her parents for two days; she’d even spent the night at Regina’s to avoid them.  However, Rumplestiltskin knew that the Charming clan would work their issues out.  Those annoying optimists always would.

Regina had come by the next morning, with her unexpected roommate in tow, demanding to know if Maleficent had asked after her normal partners in crime.  Rumplestiltskin had confirmed that she had, but they didn’t hear a peep out of Maleficent for several days after that.  He was even starting to believe that things would calm down—Emma and the Charmings were even talking again, which left Baelfire relieved that Henry wasn’t playing go-between.  So, Rumplestiltskin shoved his ever-present nerves aside, and decided to forgo planning another romantic evening.  Today, Belle had brought lunch to the shop for another impromptu picnic, and Rumplestiltskin had the ring in his pocket again.

“I was thinking about expanding the children’s section in the library, but I need some more shelves,” Belle told him, glowing happily.  “Do you think Dove might be available to help?”

“Of course he will.  That’s what I pay him for.”  Rumplestiltskin smiled.  “Besides, he likes you.  I’m sure he’ll be happy to help.”

“Thank you!”  Belle’s smile lit up the room, and Rumplestiltskin thought there was no better moment to finally propose.  

“Sweetheart, there’s something I wanted to talk about, something I’ve been thinking since—”

The door slammed open before he could get the rest of the sentence out, and Rumplestiltskin snarled in frustration as Snow, David, and Emma charged into the shop. 

“You caused this problem, so you get to fix it,” Emma said without preamble. 

Rumplestiltskin bristled.  “And what problem would that be, dearie?”

“These ‘Queens of Darkness’.”  David looked ready to spit nails.  “Regina said you told Maleficent where to find Cruella and Ursula.”

“I did, yes.  I fail to see how that’s any problem of mine, though.  We made a deal.”

“Because now they’re here!”  Snow looked a little panicked; privately, Rumplestiltskin thought the experience might do her a bit of good, however uncharitable of him that was.  “Maleficent snuck them in, somehow.”

He snorted before he could stop himself.  “That’s hardly a surprise.” 

It also wasn’t his problem, not if Maleficent kept her word.  He knew Maleficent’s friends well, knew what they really wanted.  Terrorizing Storybrooke might be something they found entertaining, but their end goals were the same thing anyone’s were: they wanted happiness.  And in Ursula’s case, well, she simply wanted her _life_ back.  Cruella was more difficult, of course, but he knew that the other two could keep her in line.  She might have enjoyed killing, but Cruella also liked having friends.

“You’re _not_ helping, Gold.”  Emma glared at him, but Rumplestiltskin merely shrugged.

“Has it ever occurred to you that you’ve _already_ cracked the code to undermining any villain’s most evil deeds?” he asked, taking a deep breath.  The town’s heroes could be ridiculously obtuse sometimes, but they _were_ family.  And it made Belle and Bae both happy when he helped them, even when all Rumpelstiltskin was doing was saving them from themselves. 

That made Emma blink.  “What are you talking about?”

“You turned Regina to your side by making her _family_ , by helping her find happiness.  I was a bit more of a happy coincidence as far as you were concerned, given Baelfire’s relationship to Henry, but the same principle applies.  What makes you think any other villain would be different?”

“I hardly think _Maleficent_ is going to consider us family any time soon.”  Snow stared at him like he was an idiot, and Rumplestiltskin had to fight not to roll his eyes.  It was Belle who spoke up, her voice gentle:

“Not _your_ family.  _Hers._ ”  Belle met Snow’s eyes levelly, giving her a small and compassionate nod like only Belle could do.  “She wants to find her daughter more than anything else.  I think she’s only called in allies because she doesn’t believe anyone in this town will help her.”

Rumplestiltskin picked up right where she left off, throwing a meaningful glance Emma’s way.  “And isn’t finding people what you _do,_ Miss Swan?”

That made Emma blink, and—fortunately—made the Charmings file out not long after.  Family they might have been, but they were also Rumplestiltskin’s personal headache.

* * *

 

Rumplestiltskin had been acting strangely all afternoon.  Actually, now that Belle thought on it, she realized he’d been acting oddly for the last week or so, ever since the picnic that Maleficent had interrupted.  That night had been nearly perfect, and the thought of it still made Belle smile.  She knew that her love wasn’t particularly adept or practiced at romance, which made the effort he’d put into that picnic doubly meaningful to her.  Yet a small knot of worry was still beginning to gnaw at her insides, so she jumped at the opportunity to ask for a second opinion the moment that Neal walked into the library that afternoon.

“Neal!  Hey.”  Belle gave Rumple’s son a wide smile; she really did like Neal (or Baelfire, as Rumple would never stop calling him).  She hadn’t had much of a chance to get to know him before he’d supposedly died, since she’d been Lacey at the time and hadn’t exactly been interested in her boyfriend’s ‘goody two-shoes’ offspring.  She’d tried to make up for lost time since everyone had returned to Neverland, and Belle thought they’d built a good friendship in the six months that had passed.

After all, she knew that Rumplestiltskin craved his son’s approval and acceptance, which meant gaining the same for _herself_ was high on Belle’s list of things to do.  Fortunately, she liked Neal, and she found him easy to befriend.

“Hey, Belle.  You got any _Doctor Who_ novelizations?  Henry’s gotten into the show, and the DVDs I ordered can only get here so fast.”  Neal smiled sheepishly.  “I’m hoping to give him something to tide him over more quietly than watching ‘The Doctor’s Wife’ over and over again.”

Belle blinked.  “Um, I’m not sure.  We can check, though.”

“Great.  You’re a lifesaver.”

She lead him towards the Sci-Fi/Fantasy section, and sure enough, there were a few _Doctor Who_ novels there.  In Belle’s experience, novelizations of stories told in other mediums usually weren’t as good as the original—they were just about the _only_ type of books that weren’t better in book form—but she didn’t say that.  Instead, she cleared her throat and gathered her courage.

“Do you…do you think that your father is acting a little strangely?”

“Strangely?” Neal turned to look at her with the same guilty expression Rumplestiltskin always wore when he was Up To Something.  Then the look vanished and he flashed Belle a disarming smile.  “Not that I’ve noticed.  Why?”

“Are you certain?” Belle pressed, mostly just to see his reaction.

“Yeah.  He seems pretty normal to me.”

“Okay.  Thanks.”  She smiled, but what Belle was thinking was: _Whatever it is, Neal’s in on it.  And that means it can’t be too bad, can it?_

* * *

 

Another day, another interruption.  This time it had been Henry, who had come over to eat breakfast with Rumplestiltskin and Belle at Granny’s.  Rumplestiltskin was quite touched that his grandson had wanted to join them, but had he had to choose _that_ morning?  Rumplestiltskin had a hard enough time controlling the butterflies raging in his stomach without someone cutting short his attempts to propose, and he’d already lost track of the number of interruptions they’d suffered.  Henry was just another in a long line, which left Rumplestiltskin cranky and irritable.  That, in turn, annoyed Belle, who went straight to open the library after breakfast instead of joining him in the shop for a half hour like she usually did.

He was in the doghouse, and he hadn’t even really snapped at Henry.  For once, however, it really _wasn’t_ Rumplestiltskin’s fault.  All he wanted to do was ask the woman he loved to marry him under vaguely romantic—and preferably private—circumstances.  He didn’t know why that small desire seemed impossible to fulfill in Storybrooke, but it left Rumplestiltskin yearning for the quiet and lonely days of the Dark Castle.  _Provided Belle is there, anyway.  And Bae._   But Bae would want Henry, and Henry would want Regina and Emma, which would bring the Charmings into the mess…and leave him right back where he started.

“Damn them all,” he muttered, only to jump when a voice immediately answered.

“Having problems with the town, Pop?”

“Baelfire.”  Rumplestiltskin tried a glare on for size, but it fizzled in the face of his son’s smile.  “Don’t you know that sneaking up on the Dark One is always a bad idea?”

“I think I’ve got a permanent get-out-of-cursing free card.”  Bae gave him a cheeky shrug, and Rumplestiltskin sighed.

“Only you.”  He tried to keep the word from being a growl, and mostly succeeded. 

“And Belle.  Don’t forget her.”  Bae reached out to touch the antique music box Rumplestiltskin had been fiddling with.  “How’s the proposal business going?  I think she’s starting to get suspicious.”

He swatted Bae’s hand away.  “Don’t ask.”

“That bad, huh?”

“We keep getting interrupted.”  Dark Ones did not _whine_ , but if he hadn’t been the Dark One, Rumplestiltskin might have considered it.  _Take the hint,_ Zoso’s mocking voice put in immediately, filling his thoughts.  _Don’t marry the wench.  Just take what you want._   With an effort, Rumplestiltskin pushed his predecessor aside.

“Yeah, I saw Henry get you this morning.  Sorry about that.”  Bae shrugged.  “I was distracted by Emma.”

“Oh?” Rumplestiltskin arched an eyebrow.  “Speaking of romances, are you making progress on that front?”

“Some.”  Bae sighed.  “She’s not dating Hook, anyway, and I think that’s a victory.  For a guy who said he was going to step back and give Emma and I a chance for Henry’s sake, he sure does show up everywhere that she is, giving her smoldering glances and playing the romantic card.”

Rumplestiltskin couldn’t help snorting.  “Miss Swan isn’t shallow enough to be interested in that routine, I think.”

“You mean shallow like Mom was?”

Those words slammed into Rumplestiltskin, jerking him up short and leaving him blinking.  He hadn’t meant to imply that, but he _had_ …and he and Baelfire had only talked about Milah once since their reconciliation.  He thought they were okay, thought that Bae had, if not forgiven him, at least come to terms with what had happened.  But Milah was a subject they generally avoided, and Rumplestiltskin wasn’t quite sure what to do now that his son had brought her up.  Finally, he managed to stutter out a few words.

“I didn’t mean—”

“Nah, but it’s all right if you did.  Even when I was little, I knew that Mom wasn’t really a great parent.  I was an inconvenient ball and chain for her, really, keeping her from going to the bar and gambling, and somehow it was your fault when she couldn’t do that because you were working.”  Baelfire shrugged when Rumplestiltskin goggled at him.  “I was seven, Papa.  That’s old enough to notice.”

“I, uh…” He didn’t know what to say, and just ended up gulping.

Bae gave him a crooked smile, but how understanding it was warmed Rumplestiltskin’s very soul.  “Yeah, I know.  Anyway, I—”

The bell out front rang, rescuing them both from the awkward conversation, and Rumplestiltskin had never been so happy to be interrupted.  Talking about Milah always made him feel guilty, not because of how their marriage had worked out—Rumplestiltskin was in a secure enough place these days to realize that he hadn’t really been at fault for their failures—but because he _had_ killed her.  He hadn’t been able to stop himself when Milah hadn’t seemed to care about leaving their brilliant boy; his rage had boiled over and the darkness had _owned_ him.  But now, hundreds of years later, all Rumplestiltskin knew was that he’d taken away his son’s mother, and he knew that was unforgivable.

“Hey, you two!”  Belle pushed the curtain aside with a smile, and her presence was like the sun coming out.  Rumplestiltskin felt himself smiling back despite his dark thoughts, felt even the worst of his curse fading into the back recesses of his mind.

“Hey.”  He knew he was grinning like an idiot, but she really had that effect on him.

Bae clapped him on the shoulder.  “Well, I’ll leave you two to talk.  Gotta be going, anyway.”

“Oh, no, I don’t mean to chase you out!”  Belle looked horrified.

“Nope, I’ve got, um, things to do.  Lots of them.  Important things.”  Waving, Bae ducked out the back door, leaving Belle watching him with a bemused expression on her face.  Blue eyes bright with suspicion, she turned to Rumplestiltskin.

“Is there something I’m missing?”

“Missing?” He knew the word sounded guilty the moment it came out.  “No, of course not.”

She crossed her arms.  “ _Rumple_.  You know I don’t like it when you lie to me.”

“I’m not lying, sweetheart, really.  I just—it’s just Bae had things to do.”  _And he’s trying to give me room to propose to you, but this moment is far from perfect.  I wanted to do everything_ just _right, not to have Belle annoyed with me and giving me that look._   Gulping, Rumplestiltskin tried to find some topic, _any_ topic, that would distract her, but he was left with nothing.

“And you’re _both_ hiding something.  I’m not stupid, you know.”

“Of course you aren’t.  I never thought you were.”  He tried a smile on, hoping it would help ease her irritation.  “Not even back in the beginning, when you were a nosy maid who didn’t know when to stop asking questions.”

Oh, that was the wrong thing to say.  Belle bristled.  “Are you implying that I should know when to stop asking questions _now_?” she demanded.

“No!  That’s not what I meant at all.”  For someone with a silver tongue, he was doing terribly, now.  Quickly, Rumplestiltskin stepped forward to take her hands.  “Everything is coming out all wrong.  That happens when I get nervous.”

“And what do you have to be nervous about?” Belle cocked her head, eying him closely.  “Would this be about the ‘nothing’ neither of are telling me about?”

“Well, actually…yes.”  Rumplestiltskin took a deep breath.  “This isn’t…it isn’t how I wanted to have this conversation, but—”

Yet again, another door slammed open, although this one was the back door to the shop instead of the front.  Rumplestiltskin spun to face the invader, hoping it was merely Baelfire, only to be disappointed.  Cruella and Ursula waltzed into his shop, smiling and laughing, as close as corrupted peas in a very dark pod. 

Cruella stopped cold.  “Mal said he looked different, darling, but are you _sure_ this is Rumplestiltskin?  He’s so _small_.”  She sneered.  “And he’s holding hands with this little waif.”

“Excuse me?” Belle bristled, but before she or Rumplestiltskin could get a word in edgewise, Ursula laughed.

“Mal said his name was ‘Gold’, here, and it _is_ on the sign outside.”  The former mermaid shrugged.  “I suppose this _could_ be someone else.”

“Or I suppose the two of you _could_ explain what you’re doing in my shop,” Rumplestiltskin cut in, his voice hard.  He took a half step forward, shielding Belle against the possibility of either of the two attacking her, even though he didn’t really think they’d be that stupid.

Not again, anyway.

“Oh, it _is_ you!” Cruella’s grin was huge.  Gesturing excitedly, she looked him up and down, as if she was evaluating his suit.  “Oh, this world does look good on you—particularly without the scaly skin glitter.  That never did you any favors.”

“What do you _want_ , dearie?” he snapped, only to have Cruella step forward and try to touch his face.

Rumplestiltskin slapped her hand away, and she pouted.

Cruella pursed her lips thoughtfully.  “I do miss the leather, though.  It looked marvelous with your tight little backside.”

Ursula burst into giggles just as Belle exploded.  “Do you want something?  Because if not, you’re welcome to leave.”

“Why _did_ you trade the gauntlet for her, darling?” Cruella gestured dismissively at Belle.  “I’ll grant you that she’s a pretty face, but surely you could find a maid who is _less_ talkative.  Or at least take her tongue out.  I understand that used to be a little fetish of yours.”

“More than a little one, if the stories are right,” Ursula added with a snort.

“I’ll be happy to demonstrate it on you if you don’t stop insulting her,” Rumplestiltskin growled, feeling darkness roar up within him.  The idea of crushing Cruella’s windpipe was _so_ attractive, and—

Belle’s hand landed on his arm, and the darkness retreated.  Her voice was gentle.  “It’s only words, Rumple.” 

One look in her pleading eyes made Rumplestiltskin sigh and back down, giving Belle a half smile before turning back to the other two.

“You might want to be grateful to Belle rather than insulting her,” he grated out.  “Otherwise, I’d be inclined to turn you into something remarkably unpleasant—and don’t think that wouldn’t work on you, Cruella,” he added as she opened her mouth to object.  “I’ve forgotten more magic than you’ll ever learn.”

“Ooooh, you’re touchy.”  Cruella wiggled excitedly, but Ursula took her arm.

“Oh, we won’t overstay our welcome.  We just wanted to say hi to an old friend.”  Her eyes flicked to Belle.  “And an old victim, of course.  Mal said you two were together, but we couldn’t believe it until we saw it ourselves.”

Cruella, of course, couldn’t leave without leering at him.  “Do let me know if you want to upgrade, darling.”  Her eyes shifted decidedly downwards.  “Particularly if you can find those old leather pants.”

“If he does, he won’t be wearing them for you,” Belle snapped. 

“Do get out.”

They left, but after that, there was absolutely no way Rumplestiltskin was proposing.  Not today.

* * *

 

Time passed in Storybrooke just like it always did.  Regina and Emma headed out of Storybrooke to find Maleficent’s long lost daughter, Ursula and Cruella created minor trouble (usually when drunk), and life generally went on.  Or it did until Maleficent learned that Henry wasn’t just Regina’s son.  He was Snow and Charming’s grandson, which meant she threatened to steal _him_ away and let them suffer the same sort of loss she had.  That, of course, led to David calling Rumplestiltskin in a bit of a panic.

He found the dragoness in the park, staring out at Storybrooke’s only pair of swans.

“I understand you’re trying to take up the child-stealing mantle,” he said by way of greeting, letting a hard edge enter his otherwise mild voice.  “I thought that was supposed to be my role.”

Maleficent rolled her eyes.  “You appear to be falling down on the job.”

“Perhaps I’ve turned over a new leaf.”

“Or perhaps you just want to impress your little lover.”  She snorted, and then twisted to eye him.  “Doing the Charmings’ bidding now, Rumplestiltskin?  I thought you had higher standards than that.”

“Oh, I do.”  Smiling slightly, Rumplestiltskin came around the bench and sat down next to her.  “But you appear to have missed the memo.  The boy you threatened is also _my_ grandson.”

“Are you _serious_?” Maleficent stared at him.  “You’re telling me _your_ lost son is that idiot romancing the Charmings’ _daughter_?”

“Watch yourself.”

She laughed.  “Love makes idiots out of us all.  You included.”

“I’m not here to listen to your opinion on love, dearie.  Just to give you a warning.  If you harm Henry—”

“Don’t be silly.  He’s Regina’s son, too, and I couldn’t do that to her.”

“Good.”  He started to rise, only to freeze when Maleficent continued, her voice startlingly soft:

“You do love her, don’t you?”

There was something so genuine in the question that it made Rumplestiltskin swallow.  “Yes.  Yes, I do.”

“Good.”  Maleficent smiled sadly.  “I suppose that means there’s hope for me, yet.”

“I have never been a man much to believe in hope,” he admitted quietly, “but being with Belle…perhaps I have learned that anything is possible, if only you can recognize love when you have it.”

* * *

 

Belle was walking down the street when the pair came up behind her.

“You’d better claim him fast, little maid, or I’m likely to run off with that Dark One of yours,” Cruella drawled, making Belle spin around.  “He really does look quite delicious in this world.”

Belle rolled her eyes.  “I’d like to see you try.”

“Oh, my, we’re confident.  What makes you think Rumplestiltskin would prefer little miss goody two shoes instead of someone with just as much darkness and spice as he has?”

“Probably because I know him.”  Not snorting took all of her self-control.  “Which is _not_ something I think you can honestly say.”

“We’ve known Rumplestiltskin—and his darker parts—far longer than you have, you silly girl.”  Cruella sneered.  “Do you think he’s suddenly turned over a new leaf, just for you?  Don’t be ridiculous.  It’s all another one of his games.”

“It isn’t a game.”  Belle almost laughed at Cruella’s insistence that Rumplestiltskin couldn’t possibly want to be a better man; she knew her love wasn’t some paragon of virtue, but she also knew he was trying.  “But I really don’t care what you think.  In fact, neither of us do, so why don’t you just move along and annoy someone else?”

“Touchy, touchy.”  Ursula looked at Cruella.  “Do you think she’s protesting too much?  I do.”

“I think you have a point, darling.”

Now Belle did laugh.  “I think you’re jealous.”

“Of you?” Cruella reared back in horror.  “Of course not.  The very idea is ridiculous.”

“Yeah, just as ridiculous as the idea of Rumplestiltskin falling in love with his maid, right?” she shot back.

Belle knew that she shouldn’t let them goad her like this, but listening to these two newcomers talk about Rumplestiltskin like he was some piece of meat just infuriated her.  Cruella and Ursula had been in town for less than two weeks, and they already thought they knew everything.

“Now _that_ definitely sounds like someone who is worried about the status of her relationship.”  Ursula smirked.  “Worried that your Dark One might start wandering?  Or did you find a way to keep control of him?”

“Of course not!”

“Pity. That would have been deliciously kinky.”  Cruella’s grin made Belle want to punch her in the face.

She even thought about doing so until she saw Rumplestiltskin walking down the street, heading in their direction.  So, she just turned her own smirk on Cruella and Ursula.  “This is delicious enough for me.”

Without waiting for either to reply, Belle marched up to Rumplestiltskin and grabbed him by the lapels, dragging him in close for a kiss.  He didn’t seem to need much encouragement; his arms wrapped around her immediately, and she could hear Ursula and Cruella muttering from behind her.  Belle probably shouldn’t have been so pleased by that, but she found herself ridiculously _glad_ they could see this.  It was probably small and petty of her, but at the moment, Belle didn’t care.

“Hey, sweetheart.”  Rumplestiltskin’s smile was soft when they finally pulled apart, but Belle couldn’t help giving him a sheepish shrug.

“Sorry.  Your old ‘friends’ are driving me crazy.”

“If crazy leads to kisses like that, I can live with crazy.”  His crooked smile was one Belle knew was only for her; Rumplestiltskin didn’t let the kinder side of his sense of humor out with a lot of people, but he had opened up to her more and more ever since his return from Neverland.

Belle forced herself to ignore the two gapers behind her and grinned.  “You sure you can keep up?”

“I think I’ll manage.”  He squeezed her hands, and they turned together just in time to see Cruella fake gagging. 

Ursula settled for rolling her eyes.  “I never thought I’d see the day the Dark One turned into a woman’s lapdog.”

“It’s sickening, really.”  Cruella sighed theatrically.  “Pathetic.”

“Says the woman who contemplated ‘stealing’ him just a few minutes ago?” Belle scoffed.  “If there’s anyone who’s pathetic here, it’s you.”

“Stealing?” Rumplestiltskin echoed incredulously.  “I hate to disappoint you, Cruella, but I’m exactly where I want to be.”  He glanced at Belle again, and she could see the way his eyes softened.  “Let’s go home, sweetheart.”

Belle was only too happy to oblige.

* * *

 

Rumplestiltskin tried taking Belle for a walk in the park the next day, hoping that the beauty and solitude of the path by the lake would provide the romantic environment he was seeking for the perfect proposal.  Of course, Maleficent’s long lost daughter chose that moment to make an appearance, turning into a dragon and trying to burn anyone and everyone who had hurt her.  Neither Rumplestiltskin nor Belle were her targets, but that didn’t keep them from getting caught in the crossfire.

The day after that, Emma and that same daughter got in a spat over _Baelfire_ —apparently, Lily wanted to take something from Emma after so much had been taken from her—and Rumplestiltskin wound up breaking that up instead of taking Belle to a romantic lunch at the new Italian place.  Then the pirate barged into the shop, interrupting his backup plans for lunch, and Charming wasn’t far behind him.  Snow and Regina followed in due course, and the next two days were consumed by the fact that Hook was the reason that Ursula had lost her voice and was estranged from her father.  The last thing Storybrooke needed was some Greek god invading, which left them with quite the mess to untangle.  Belle talked him out of strangling Hook, of course, but that left Rumplestiltskin cranky for days.

He had _definitely_ lost track of the number of times that he’d put that ring in his pocket and sworn today was the day.  But today would be different, Rumplestiltskin promised himself.  He’d wised up and wasn’t even going to wait until after they left the house.  He’d conspired with Baelfire to get his son out the door before Belle woke up, and then cooked all of Belle’s favorites.  He’d even made strawberry sauce for the waffles from scratch, along with homemade hollandaise sauce for eggs benedict.

Of course, Belle was too smart not to notice the theme.  “What’s the occasion?” she asked as she walked into the kitchen, smiling brightly.

“Can’t I make breakfast for the woman I love?”  His heart was in his throat, pounding so hard that Rumplestiltskin felt like it was going to jump free and bounce off the table.

“Waffles _and_ eggs benedict?  Either you’re trying to get me fat, or something’s going on.”  She reached out and put a hand on his arm, and it felt like electricity rushing through him.  “Talk to me, please.  What’s going on?”

“Can’t we eat breakfast, first?” Rumplestiltskin had to try.  “We wouldn’t want it getting cold.”

“I hear magic has _great_ warming capabilities.  Someone told me that, once.  I can’t seem to remember who.”  Belle gave him a teasing look, her tongue sticking out slightly from between her teeth.  “Breakfast can wait.”

“So it can.”  Rumplestiltskin took a deep breath, gathering his courage.  He had always been a coward, and probably always would be, but maybe just this once, he could do the brave thing.  “And since it will…there’s something I want to ask you.”

Her hand was still on his arm, and Belle squeezed gently, giving him an easy smile.  “You know you can ask me anything.”

“This is…this is different.”  He tried not to stutter, but the effort failed miserably.

“Is everything okay?”  Belle’s smile turned to concern, and that made his stomach clench with guilt.  _I’m screwing everything up.  I_ always _screw things up._

“Yes, yes, it’s fine.”  He gulped again, taking another shaking breath. 

“Now you’re worrying me.”

“No—please don’t worry.  I’m just doing this badly.”  Rumplestiltskin was babbling, too, and he couldn’t stop himself.  “I wanted to do something romantic, to do something _perfect_ , but people keep interrupting, and nothing’s going right…”

“Rumple, are you trying to propose?”

For a moment, all he could do was gape.  “Yeah.”  A shaky laugh wormed its way out.  “Although this is not going at all as I planned.”

“I think it’s going all right.”  Belle laughed gently.  “Do I get a ring with this proposal?”

“Of course you do.”  Rumplestiltskin had to fumble to get the ring out of his pocket, but the glowing smile on Belle’s face when he showed it to her was worth the trouble.  “Assuming you want it.”

“Yes.”  Her smile made him feel like he could move mountains.  “A thousand times yes.”

They kissed, and eventually, Rumplestiltskin remembered to give her the ring.  He did end up using magic to heat up breakfast some while later, too, but at least they didn’t get interrupted. 

* * *

 

_Finis._


End file.
